Brothers
by Ekat
Summary: Joe, Memorial Day, and Memories


Title: Brothers  
  
Author: Ekat  
  
Rating: G  
  
Disclaimers: They belong to someone else. I make no money off of this.   
  
Summary: Joe, Memorial Day, and memories  
  
Characters: JD, M  
  
A/N: Dedicated to those who did not come back.  
  
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Washington, DC  
May 28, 2001  
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The day was proving to be better than expected. The dull gray of the sky was slowly giving way to the rich azure expected during the last part of May. The threat of rain was almost gone. The temperature was cool, but not uncomfortable.   
  
He walked along sidewalk, trying to avoid bumping into the bustling crowd of people. He had expected people, just not this many. But he knew he really should not be surprised. It was, after all, Memorial Day. This was, after all, Washington. He was, after all, walking in front of one of the most powerful war memorials the nation had.  
  
As he walked he saw names; names of men; good men. Ackley, Dalton, Klugg, Monahan, Ramos. He had never known them, but he had been one of them. One of the many who had traveled thousands of miles to defend an idea that not all those back home believed in. The only difference between him and the thousands of names on the wall was that he made it back home.  
  
He left the States, a scared teenage boy, out to prove himself in the world. He had returned a scarred young man with a grudge against the world. He had blamed everyone for the loss of his legs. He blamed the VC for planting the mine that he stepped on. He blamed his sergeant for leading him to where the mine was planted. He blamed the medics and the doctors for not being able to save his legs. It took him decades to come to grips with what had happened to him and come to accept that things like that happen when you fight a war.  
  
Ever since the Wall was erected, he made this yearly pilgrimage. He came to honor the men who died. He came to honor the men who never came back. He came to remind himself that he was indeed one of the lucky ones.  
  
He stopped before a single name. He reached out and touched the engraving. McLaughlin. They had gone through basic together. His mind flashed onto the memory of a freckle faced twenty-something young man from Idaho. The kid had never been to a city larger than a blip on a map, let alone to some place as big and scary as Vietnam. "We miss you buddy. Come home soon," he said before he moved on.  
  
Further down the wall he saw another name. Underwood. He thought back to the night they had spent all night playing poker because they were both too damn scared to sleep but too damn proud to admit it. "I've got that five grand I owe you. You just need to come home to claim it," he said reaching up to touch the name.  
  
He continued his walk down the side of the monument, stopping one last time. Eye-level was the name. Jacobs. "Stinky" as his platoon had called him. He had believed that he had a pair of lucky socks. He refused to wash them. That was, until Sarge made him for fear that Charlie would smell them long before they would see them. Stinky went down the day after he washed them. They had walked right into sniper fire. Stinky caught a bullet in the chest. But Sarge would not let them go back and retrieve his body.  
  
As he reached out to touch the name, he felt a tear roll down his cheek. "I'm sorry, Stinky." He stood there, tears falling down his face, remembering Stinky's final words as he cradled him in his arms. "You beat them for me, Boy Scout." He had promised he would. But, in the end, they had beaten him too.  
  
Eventually he brought himself to leave and go find a park bench to sit at. He sat there for quite a while, lost in his memories. It wasn't until a familiar voice caught his attention that he returned to the present.  
  
"Do you have any idea how crowded the Metro is this time of day?" He looked over to see a very familiar face sitting down next to him.  
  
"Adam, what are you doing here?" he asked, surprised to find that he was glad his friend was there.  
  
"Come on Joe, what does it look like? I'm sitting here in the Nation's Capitol on one of the busiest tourist days it has," Methos said, smirking.  
  
"That's not what I meant and you know it. I mean, why are you here?" Joe said.  
  
"I have known you for way too many years, Old Man. I know what you do every Memorial Day and I was going to be damned if I let my best friend go visit his old Army buddies and then get all maudlin without me."  
  
"Well, thanks. I really could use an honest-to-goodness breathing friend right about now."  
  
"Least I could do. Why don't I buy us a couple rounds and we can raise a glass to them," Methos said motioning his hand towards the Wall.  
  
"I think they would like that." Together they got up and headed off to find themselves a bar. Joe smiled, grateful for the man that walked beside him. In many ways, Methos was as much a brother to him as those men upon the Wall.  
  
~fin~  
  



End file.
